


Desiring Freedom

by greylina



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-07
Updated: 2017-06-07
Packaged: 2018-11-10 02:39:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11118147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greylina/pseuds/greylina
Summary: Expectations to remember who he was suffocate Link, and it feels like he is barely allowed a moment to give himself the time he needs to find himself. What's worse, is that loving the princess once again is something he does not yet feel ready to do.





	Desiring Freedom

**Author's Note:**

> This is a short little one shot I wrote to humor my friend while we gushed over post-game headcanons about Link. I always thought it was unfortunate that he remembered so little about his life before he slept, so I wrote something about him dealing with that - With Zelda kept in mind, of course. I always felt it was a little unfair that he was almost expected to love Zelda immediately after reuniting.

1

He’s honest.

Days after the final battle, they found themselves recovering and enjoying well earned rest in Kakariko. Link never answered Zelda’s question, both of them having been too overwhelmed with emotion to wait for it - They found each other in the other’s arms, a tight embrace keeping them close together. For a moment, it was forgotten.

“I remember very little,” He tells her. _Of you_ hangs in the air between them. Zelda contemplates the warm embers inside Impa’s fireplace, watches as a spark of flame dances with a crackle, then quiets.

She thinks to ask, _do you love me?_ But he reaches over and holds her hand, give it a squeeze, and she knows. “It’s okay.”

“I feel like my memories aren’t mine,” He says a while after. “I don’t feel like I am my own person.”

He pauses, and she thinks she’s meant to respond, but he continues, and it pains Zelda when she notices the cracks in his voice.

“There’s so much that people expect of me, it feels like. I thought that after defeating Ganon that I would be allowed time to recover the full extent of my memories, and I am, slowly, but, it feels like they don’t belong to _me._

I remembered that I was partial to the color green, and I’ve looked at the grass and the leaves of trees, and I appreciate it, but _I_ love the color blue.

I remembered that I was very good friends with Misha, and that I cared for her very much. I worry that she expected my to love her still, and I respect her, but it feels like I don’t know her, truly.

I remember the King and the castle, and that I swore to protect it, but the whole place feels… Distant to me.”

Zelda, quiet and stunned, pulls him closer as he speaks.

“I worry that,” He says, looking down at their hands together. “I worry that you _expect_ me to love you.”

And, Goddesses, how did that never occur to her? Her love for him, once so sure and confident. Over the years she had waited and, of course, it found insecurity. She knew he would come back, but in her childish heart, she _hoped_ that he would come back to her.

She was selfish, and thought so little of how he felt, didn’t she?

She remains silent, stunned. Link looks at her, searching, _hoping_ for a response she doesn’t yet know, and it seems to him that her silence was answer enough. He brings her hand to his lips and kisses it, and her heart breaks as she can’t decipher what it meant - Was it _goodnight?_

Was it goodbye?

“I’m so sorry.” Is the only thing she manages to say, her voice small and fragile and _confused_ and guilty, as he leaves the room.

2

He’s _earnest._

The next few weeks, he is sparse. But he is no doubt traveling the expanse of the continent. Without the thought of quests and impending threat of Calamity, he was undoubtedly eager to rediscover - to _discover_ \- the true beauty of Hyrule and what it meant and means to him.

Goddesses knew, he needs to figure himself out.

And Goddesses _knew_ he is eager to. He lies on the grass on the fields, staring at the endless blue sky and trying to guess when an old dragon would appear. He lets go of the reigns of his horse, raising his arms and letting the wind carry his laughter. He goes from Lurelin Village all the way to the Rito, learning new recipes and enjoying himself.

It is _freedom_ that he seeks. Freedom that he _deserves._

But every now and then, he finds himself under a canopy of leaves, his thoughts returning to memories he’s recovered.

He’s learning a recipe - Or rather he is _creating_ one. He’s set to explore Hebra soon, and despite his having clothes crafted by the Rito, he likes to be prepared and have some warming foods ready in his pack.

(And, he’s always had a fondness for Goron spice.)

His first thought is of Daruk, unsurprisingly.

He thumbs through pages of his notebook, looking for ways to utilize Goron spice - _curry,_ he reads. Curry is good for colder regions.

He thinks of Daruk, thinks of a large Goron who laughs at him as he’s on fire in the heart of Goron City. Link’s panting and panicking and trying to find the nearest store, _praying_ that he’ll find an elixir or two to keep the flames away, but Daruk follows him and does something better - Place a fireproof helmet on his head and shove the rest of the armor in his arms.

A hearty laugh escapes Link, and he notices, as he’s stirring the curry, the tug in his heart as he continues to think of the big Goron.

He collects a few stray rocks - bite sized to any Goron - and thinks to give it to Daruk’s descendant.

 

The next time he thinks of his memories, he’s on top of a Sheikah Tower, overlooking the expanse of land before him. He sees the faint deep blue of the ocean, sees the stretch of gold of the desert. He sees the castle, no longer haunted. He sees the faint glow of Zora’s Domain. Then he sees Rito Village, and the rock formation they’ve settled around, and he thinks of flying, and of _course_ he thinks of Revali.

He starts laughing, then, remembering a threat to drop him in some body of water that was fulfilled. He wonders, for that moment, as he scarfs down a hearty meal of fish and meat and rice, if Revali would make the same threat to him today, were he around.

There’s a sudden gust of wind, as if to answer his inquiry.

He settles closer to the center of the tower, leaning against the console that so generously gave him a map of the land. The paraglider sits at his feet, ready to be used once he’s satisfied with his meal and resumes his exploration. Would Revali find the tool useful? Amusing?

He contemplates it for a moment. He’s sure he’d find it a _blasphemy,_ if anything. And he goes back to laughter as he thinks of Revali saying things like: _You call that flying? Unbelievable!_

But, at least, he’d commend his eagerness to drop from large heights.

 

He thinks of Mipha next while he’s floating on an old raft down the river, the currents taking him to Lake Hylia. He’s got his boots off, his feet dangling from the edge of the wood and into the cool water. There’s a soft breeze, it’s gentle. Birds are singing somewhere. The sun is low, ready to set. Afternoon, he thinks, is his favorite time of the day.

He wonders if Zora ever venture this far out of their own accord, and remembers one of the few times he’s spent with Mipha.

“I’ve always wondered why my people haven’t established more villages outside of the domain.” She’s young, and so is he. Link turns over to look at her as she climbs aboard the raft. “It’s so beautiful out here. And of course so is the Domain, but there’s a lot more in the world, isn’t there!”

He only gives a smile and a nod in reply.

“You know, Link, you’re a very lucky boy, being able to go really far into the world. You must see so _much!_ I think I’d like to be like you, brave and adventurous and strong.”

He remembers being sheepish. “Oh, well, I think you’re already like that, actually. I just like to see things.” He makes a sheepish laugh - He always makes a sheepish laugh - because he’s embarrassed.

Link lies down on the raft, staring at the darkening sky. At the first star he sees, he smiles.

 

He remembers the last of the Champions when he’s out and about on the road again, and on foot this time. He’s not sure how long he’s been walking, but he’s allowing himself to get distracted by the things around him; The sounds of crickets, the dismissive grunts of oxen or herds of horses.

It’s when a Gerudo woman with bright red hair emerges from the thick wood of a forest that he flinches, and instinctively, straightens his back, walks with a purpose, tries not to look like he’d done something very, _very_ childish.

Urbosa always did have a mother’s strict influence, didn’t she?

The Gerudo woman passes him without much attention to his person, and Link seems content to just drift back into thoughts of Urbosa and the comfort and console she gave him, so early in his time with the other champions.

“You should carry yourself with more dignity,” she’d scold every now and then.

“You should relax more, especially around the princess.” She’d say, with a tough pat on his shoulder.

“You know Revali doesn’t _actually_ despise you, yes?” This one would often be accompanied with a laugh.

One time, Link mused, she’d brought him into the tavern in Gerudo Town. He was dolled up, hair braided and outfit perfectly complimenting his complexion, and Urbosa wanted _so much_ to have him enjoy this exploration of himself.

“One drink,” she tells the bartender, who looked suspiciously between Urbosa and Link, but shrugged. She’d trust Urbosa with serving Noble Pursuit to a child.

“I don’t think I’m cut out for drinking, Urbosa,” he confesses after his third glass - For a while he wondered if he was _really_ feeling it, but after trying to decide on which of Urbosa’s eyes he should focus on, he’s convinced that drinking isn’t really something he should be doing. “Actually, I’m pretty sure you shouldn’t even be encouraging any of this. I should be with the princess right now, but I’m sure she’ll have me beheaded if she found me like this. You know what? I think she’d have me beheaded anyway. You know she hates me? I don’t get i-“

She interrupts him with a deep, gentle laugh. “The Princess Zelda does not _hate_ you, hero. She hates herself.”

He plays with his glass, frowning all the same.

“And she’s only taking it out on you because to her, you have it all figured out. Her whole life she’s been told she’s only good for one thing, a singular _thing_ she hasn’t figured out. And now, the whole kingdom rests on this thing.”

“Sucks.”

“Quite. It’s frustrating, feeling like you’re not allowed to figure out who you are.”

The grass beneath him whistles softly.

He thinks to return to Kakariko.

3

She’s diligent.

After a century of blocking Calamity out of her mind, blocking their last conversation was surprisingly… Difficult.

She has since dedicated her guilt and frustrations on plans to rebuild. Kakariko, bless it, is fortunate enough to not have suffered much damage, but there’s still an effort to expand it. With it being one of the last villages to survive the Age of Calamity, it was no doubt going to see much more residents in the next few years of repopulation and centralization of the kingdom.

She has a map in her shared room with Paya, where she marks the best and most important places to begin construction. Castletown is of course the focus of the efforts. She’s sent a team there to rebuild and restore the old buildings already, and she’s already planned on an ideal time to send messengers to repopulate the area. The Castle, she decides, would be the last to be restored. If Zelda were to rule the kingdom for the next age, she wants to rule with the mindset of putting her people first before herself.

She is, after all, the Queen, now. She has an obligation to her people first, above anything else.

And so engrossed is she in her work and dedication that she seems to have forgotten all about his apparent absence.

But every now and then, she is reminded of it. She remembers scarcely seeing him the next day, and the day after that. She catches him readying his horse, and he tells her that he’s going to spend much time on his own for now. She remembers feeling her heartache, but nods anyway, and allows him his freedom.

Goddesses know he deserves it.

She has since worried about never seeing him again, if this is the part where he returns to obscurity. It never occurred to her, before now, that perhaps _this_ is why the hero always fades away in histories.

Why _wouldn’t_ it be of his own volition?

She straightens a pile of papers stubbornly.

Oh, but didn’t it make so much _sense?_ To be born into a cycle of circumstance, _lifetimes_ of growing up knowing or finding out that you were only good for one thing? Isn’t it damning? Isn’t freedom the only thing worth doing everything for?

She thinks of weeks spent at fountains, at the foot of statues, inside churches and temples and things.

She should let him go.

She begins to sign documents with her quill.

A century spent waiting for him - Zelda _knew_ he wouldn’t remember everything, or anything, once he awoke. Why did she expect him to? She should have let him go a long time ago, suppressed her love drunk feelings in favor of the kingdom’s welfare. But wouldn’t that have been unfair to her also?

Distracted, ink wells on her signature. She makes a panicked noise underneath her breath, and tries to salvage what she can from the now-ruined signature.

“You’ll hurt your wrist writing too much, miss,” Paya’s voice chimes, and Zelda looks up from her desk, startled. “Grandmother Impa has fallen asleep to the sound of your quill. I think it’s time you take a break.”

“Oh. I suppose you’re right.” She says softly, setting the quill down. She rolls her shoulders, straightens her back. Takes a deep breath.

“I’ve noticed you’ve stayed inside more since Link left the village. You shouldn’t confine yourself, miss,” Paya says. Zelda looks at her sadly. “Grandmother used to tell me how you loved the outside. Why don’t we take a walk?”

“I would really like that, actually, Paya. Thank you.”

They walk along the paths of Kakariko in silence for a while, before Paya invites the other to venture along the path past the fairy fountain. Zelda goes along, finding that the other’s company is comforting, sweet. Paya had many stories to share, too, about her youth and about Kakariko and she was very curious, too, to hear much about Zelda’s own youth.

It wasn’t difficult to share at all, actually.

“You must have been so lonely, princess,” The Sheikah girl says, placing a comforting hand on Zelda’s elbow. “Being confined like that is no good for anyone, I believe. And yet, you do it with such grace and elegance and _diligence._ You are the strongest woman I’ve ever met.”

Zelda laughs, shaking her head. “I wish I thought as highly of myself. I’m merely grateful for it all to be over.”

They walk together in silence, soft pink fairies and bright yellow fireflies dancing around them. “You know, princess, I admire that you’ve settled your difficulties with what you’ve dealt with. I worry, very deeply, that Link hasn’t.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, forgive my saying, but the two of you are very alike, aren’t you?” Zelda nods at her words. _I was just thinking that._ “I don’t know Link as you do, of course, but I know that when he awoke, he must have felt like a new person. And yet, he’s only told one thing - Save Hyrule.”

Zelda looks down.

“You need not blame yourself for doing what the kingdom needs, miss. But I believe you, more than anyone, should be there for him as he not only recovers his memories of the world, but recovers _himself._ ”

Zelda’s gaze rises.

“He knows himself best, but you know how to help him remember that.”

She smiles, turns to Paya and holds her hand tightly. “Impa would be very, very proud of the woman you are, Paya.”

(If she thinks to assign her as caretaker of the next Princess, she makes no mention of it.)

4

His return is unceremonious.

He greets Impa, and when asked if Zelda was in, was given a simple answer of: No.

The look he gives Impa is one of relief, rather than surprise. Still, he leaves her with a polite hug and a gift from his travels, and sneaks away to find a room in the nearest inn. In retrospect, he doesn’t believe he’s quite ready to speak with her just yet.

At his room, he settles down on to his bed and fumbles with the hem of his shirt. He’s glad to have a window right beside him, his gaze focused on the numerous stars in the sky. It’s comforting, in the very least, and it helps him align his thoughts on what to say to the princess.

He sleeps uneasily that night, worried.

But morning comes immediately, and he sits up in his bed, tired and sad, his only comfort that warm blue of the morning sky. Have courage, he tells himself, and readies himself for the day ahead.

He distributes gifts to the Sheikah children, spends some time with the elders and telling them of far off places. He stops by the clothing shop, asking modestly for a new set of clothes since his current tunics have begun to fray terribly.

But all this was just a terribly disguised effort to avoid the princess as much as possible.

He’d caught sight of her walking arm in arm with Paya, and he was quick to hide or turn away - even pull up his hood to hide his hair should it give him away.

He isn’t sure what to say.

And his day continues just like that, childish avoidance and anxious fretting over words, phrases, sentences.

Where would he even start, he wonders?

 _Have courage._ He sighs.

By the first torch of evening, he’s at the foot of Impa’s home, and he begins his march upwards. Paya greets him at the door, her look knowing and fond.

“I care about you,” she tells him, before informing him of Zelda’s whereabouts within the house.

Impa gives him a smile. It’s encouraging.

In his head, he hears Urbosa and the others, urging him on.

By the time he reaches the top of the stairs to the room, he hears Zelda’s soft breathing, and instead of panic, he remembers when she’d be in her study, diligent and focused, same as she ever was.

“May I come in?” He asks, knocking softly at the wood.

“Oh - Link,” She’s startled. “You’ve returned. Please, come in.”

She’s quick to stand, but Link raises his hand, and settles on his knees across her.

_Have courage._

“I’ve said unkind things to you.” He starts, eyes downcast as he fumbles with his shirt. “I shouldn’t have-“

“I should be more understanding, and I’d like to believe I am now. I want you to find yourself again, Link. The Goddesses gave you the burden of Hero and I gave you the burden of being… _Mine,_ and I shouldn’t have,”

“But I should have been kinder with my words, princess, and I-“

“ _You_ deserve every bit of time you felt you lost trying to please and save everyone around you. Just as I do now.”

He sighs, and accepts her words.

“Princess,” he says then, and he shifts forward to take her hand in his. “I still need more time to find myself again, but I remember more now, and I understand that I am still the same person I was, just changed.”

“And you need not my permission to have that. I _want_ you by my side, but I also want you to be ready when you take it.”

“I know, I just mean to say that,” He smiles sheepishly. “Thank you. For being patient with me.”

And Goddesses help her, because there is the flutter of her heart, that warmth she thought she’d kept at bay.

And Goddesses help _him,_ because there is the bubbling joy in his chest, a feeling of relief of understanding that he _is_ his own person, he is allowing this for himself, and he grins. His memories of her, his feelings of her, are genuine, he understands that now.

“I… I have trouble remembering one thing, however,” He says. Zelda raises a brow. “I would like to remember how to fall in love again.”

**Author's Note:**

> So! 
> 
> There it is. I'm not sure if I'm satisfied with the ending, but if I mean to work on it again I'm sure I will. 
> 
> I'm picking up writing again this summer, after having spent so long not doing much for it, so maybe I'll write more for these two if the need to arises. Thanks for reading!


End file.
